ASH GROVE 184.108.40.206.6.11 D (“Let All Things Now Living”)
“Can’t wait till your deathbed! You might as well drop dead!”
A son told his dad. “Give my share of this place.”
His dad chose to give him some land that they lived on.
That son sold the land; it was quite a disgrace.
He went from that country and wasted the money.
There came a great drought; he was soon feeding swine.
Life gave him a beating; he longed to be eating
the pods in the pig yard at his dinnertime.
He lost his pretenses and came to his senses:
“The servants at home have it better than this.”
The hurting son hurried, but still he was worried:
Would he be forgiven or killed or dismissed?
His dad said, “You’re living!” and ran to forgive him;
he said, “Bring a ring and and a robe! Sandals, too!
Now make a feast ready! It’s time for a party!
My son who was dead has a life that is new!”
The elder son, listening, heard music and dancing;
he heard that his brother had been welcomed home.
He stood outside, fuming, his anger consuming,
for he’d never had such a feast of his own.
“Your brother’s returning is what I’ve been yearning,”
the father said, “He who was lost has been found.”
So we, like that brother, must love one another,
for God is a parent whose mercy abounds.
Biblical Reference: Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
Tune: Traditional Welsh melody
Text: Copyright © 2019 by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette. All rights reserved.